Every weekday morning, a curious scene unfolds outside a walled compound in one of Beijing's southern districts. On either side of the compound's single-lane entrance, scores of stocky men in wool jackets take up positions along the tree-lined pavement, exchanging greetings in rough-edged regional dialects.
The men bring camping stools to sit on, and a newspaper or two to read. A thermos flask of tea sits by their side. Parked on the roadside are dozens of cars and battered white vans with provincial licence plates. Inside, the drivers wait in a fog of cigarette smoke for the day's action to start.
Their prey is the growing army of mainlanders who travel to Beijing to petition the central government to correct the abuses committed in its name. Seekers of justice in a legal labyrinth that offers little hope of redress, the petitioners can spend years, even decades, pursuing their case. Their chance of getting their complaint resolved is estimated to be one in 500. But that doesn't stop millions from trying every year.
Virtually all government and party agencies have offices for xinfang, or 'letters and visits', as petitioning is known. Petitions can be filed in person or sent by post and e-mail. Petitioners usually try to refer disputes to a higher authority, as local xinfang branches are often unwilling to intervene. Many file multiple petitions that may increase their chances of getting a reply from the vast bureaucracy in Beijing.
But first they must run the gauntlet of plainclothes officials and hired thugs sent by local authorities to the capital to stop petitioners from raising the alarm. Known as 'retrievers', they wait outside xinfang offices to spot petitioners from their local area who have travelled to the capital.
Behind the walls of the compound are offices for the State Council and the Communist Party's Central Committee, popular destinations for aggrieved petitioners. Carrying dog-eared documents, tattered photos and letters, they approach the entrance in small groups, avoiding eye contact. The retrievers are ready to pounce, though, and unlucky petitioners are bundled into the back of a van and driven home to face the consequences.